


A Finer Pair of Damsels in Distress were Never Seen

by ximeria



Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Dark, Humor, M/M, Mutant Powers, Mutant Rights
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-14
Updated: 2013-08-14
Packaged: 2017-12-23 12:35:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/926492
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ximeria/pseuds/ximeria
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In a timeline where mutants are known and often taken by the government with little or no reason given, a different Charles Xavier meets a different Erik Lehnsherr, both aiming for the same goal (more or less) and neither sure they can trust the other.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Finer Pair of Damsels in Distress were Never Seen

**Author's Note:**

> This is actually the second time I'm writing this idea, because the first time was part of my 'let's write 5 stories within a month and keep them around 1K' - of course this version as a little more than just that *coughs*. Also, Smitty had asked why I always stick to one character POV and I told her it's because I don't trust myself to keep it tightly enough written with more than one POV in a story. So it's a challenge in more ways than one. The 2 character POV and the fact that the world I envisioned this in appealed to me.

The last file fell through the shredder and Charles felt as if he could breathe just a little easier. Anything that was on the computer on his desk had been wiped as well - and treated with the high performance magnet that Hank had created before Charles had left for his now 'terminated job'.

He was done going over the final details before leaving his post. All the covering of tracks and anything that might alert the authorities to the fact that he hadn't been working on his own. He dropped his ID into the bin as well, watching it bounce gently on top of the shredded paper.

He uncorked a small vial and poured it into the bin with the shredded files. A hissing noise and a an odour not unlike wet socks rose from the paper as the liquid incinerated the last traces. Another little 'gift' from Hank that Charles had thought a little overkill initially, but now was damned happy to have at his disposal.

He watched for a moment as the plastic coating of his ID began melting, peeling back; the liquid eating through his image, warping his features.

Charles knew he didn't have much time to spare and with the files taken care of, he really should be getting out as fast as possible. His connection in the upper echelons of the military had warned him. Nothing more than a note to get the hell out and cover his tracks; the wrong people had started paying attention to the facility. He could drag it out, see if he could save one more soul, but the facility was currently not expecting any new mutants coming through and no one was in the holding cells.

This facility had been a great opportunity but also served him with very little in the way of a cover. If someone put two and two together and realized that since Charles had been signed on, they had lost all three of the 'of military interest' mutant cases that had come through... well, it wouldn't be difficult to draw the right conclusion.

Not that Charles had simply walked in and let them out, but he'd made sure that they could withstand their brainwashing and more importantly, he'd left an imprint of what would happen on their way to the secondary facility where the mutants that were of interest to the military were taken.

A trip that would be interrupted by his colleagues and which had left the escort sleeping and with a mild case of amnesia, all courtesy of Emma Frost.

Well, three liberated mutants were better than none. Even if Charles wanted them all out, wanted them all to be saved.

He allowed himself a small smile as he closed his office door, nodding at one of the guards who was standing at the end of the hallway. He could almost hear Emma's voice in his head, even if her powers wouldn't stretch this far. But she'd often enough told him that he was a dreamer, an idealist. That he was an idiot for trying to save everyone. Of course, she negated her own hard words by fighting for the cause as intensely as he did.

Now, all he had to do was keep a straight face, stave off his nervousness and get out through three checkpoints. Most of the facility was covered in a dampening field that nullified most mutant powers.

Well, unless you were as powerful as Charles was. To him it was a nuisance more than an obstacle. It did make it difficult for him to use his abilities, but he'd found more than a few 'blind' spots around the facility. Two of those were smack dab in the middle of the two outer checkpoints, so if they called him back, if they ordered his arrest, he could still influence the guards.

Even outside those blind spots, he could exercise his manipulation, but it would most certainly drain him unnecessarily so if he could avoid it, he would. Not to mention; he was less subtle about it and people might... notice his mental trespasses.

Drawing on every ounce of self control he possessed, Charles walked down the hallway, his coat hanging over his arm. He tried to look self assured as he neared the first checkpoint.

The two guards eyed him with indifference and waved him through. Sloppy, but they _were_ used to him coming and going. Charles very carefully didn't let out a sigh of relief as he continued down the hallway and through three more doors.

While the hallways of this building were lined with office spaces, Charles had a good mental picture of the whole facility. The building next door housed ...research labs. And he didn't want to think about all the people he hadn't been able to save; who'd come through the facility before he'd gone undercover in it. At least most of them had had minor mutations and had been let back out.

After being logged and marked, of course. Charles bit his lower lip as he redirected his focus to the case at hand. Getting the hell out. And in one piece to fight another day. The logs and the files weren't his assignment. That would be assigned to one of their teleporters. A quick trip in with a can of kerosene and a book of matches.

He'd done his part, gathering information and passing it on. And with the people they'd managed to get out, he was now expendable, though he'd just as much like to make it out alive.

As for 'way out', Emma had fitted him with the mental equivalent of a cyanide pill. If the military got their hands on a telepath of his level, mutant liberation could kiss their collective arses goodbye and there was no way in hell Charles was risking this. The reason why he could work even with the dampening field was down to the fact that the government didn't truly know the power levels of the mutants they were trying to catch - and it was a secret best kept for as long as possible.

Charles had just passed through the second checkpoint when his knees buckled, his mind overwhelmed for a second, then nothing. He was used to the cotton-like feel of the dampening field, this place being one of the few points where the field was weaker. He'd normally pick up a stray thought or two but this...

This mind was sharp and jagged, liked barbed wire or a broken mirror. Razor sharp that would cut any fool who'd get close enough.

Then it was cut off, leaving Charles reeling, one of the guards taking his arm and asking him if he was alright. Charles had to focus on him for a moment before he realized that the guard was worried for his wellbeing.

* * *

So far the soldiers were playing right into Erik's hands. Getting out would be a task to tackle later. For now he was being led inside the facility, the one he'd kept under surveillance for a couple of days without learning anything new.

Which was what had prompted him to act the way he had, using his powers in public, making sure that he'd been seen doing so. It had barely been two hours after his little display in the diner an hour south of the facility itself, before he'd been taken in by a military unit consisting of two truckloads of idiots with metal guns in hands and fear in their eyes.

He'd put up a token fight, of course, barely using a fraction of his power. On the one hand If they thought it was too easy to bring him in, they might be too much on their toes around him and it would only make his mission all that harder to fulfill. On the other; if he proved too powerful they might not even try taking him alive.

He'd felt something suppressing his grasp of metal, like a blanket over a lamp when he sat in the truck. And it only became more evident when he'd stepped inside the first of the facility buildings. The one he'd kept an eye on. It had given him a bad taste in the mouth to feel out with his powers. He couldn't say exactly why, but he'd long since learned to trust his instincts.

However, there'd been a flare of a moment where the blanket had been lifted when he'd gone from the truck and in through the doors of the building. It meant there was a weak spot in their defences. And where there was one weak spot, he was willing to bet there'd be more.

The facility's own suppression field felt stronger than the truck's had and had Erik not been in worse situations, he'd probably have been a little worried about any future escape plans. However, where his powers were part of him, they did not define his survival skills. They made it easier, yes, but as long as he was conscious, he wouldn't waste time and energy on worrying about how he was eventually going to free himself. For now he was where he needed to be to gain the information he needed.

At least the soldiers weren't stupid enough to lead him in without tying his hands. Metal cuffs, and Erik allowed himself to feel the calm influence of the metal. Not pure iron or steel - an amalgam of sorts. And while he couldn't grasp the metal as easily as he'd normally do, he could still feel it.

They didn't talk to him, merely took his papers - his passport; the one that had the name of Max Eisenhardt printed on it. The one that informed of his BRD citizenship. Travelling the US was a lot easier to do as a West German man than a jewish kid whose parents had been Polish and had perished in the Nazi camps. Taking a name that could not easily be traced back to Erik Lehnsherr, sometime Nazi hunter, sometime freelance agent for the British intelligence service had been a necessity.

Of course now that they knew he was a mutant, that would overshadow everything that would normally have been of interest to them. Exactly what Erik had aimed for when he'd hatched his plan of getting inside the facility when surveillance had yielded nothing of interest or use.

The soldiers weren't as unkind to him as their late Nazi counterparts, but then Erik wasn't a small child anymore, struggling to stay with his parents. He would let them lead him into the facility - into the lion's den, and from there he'd rip the information out however he could and leave with it. And he'd step over as many dead bodies as necessary.

A part of his mind was already plotting a route northbound. They had gone north-east for about an hour since they'd picked him up - he'd been able to feel that much from the Earth's magnetic field. Which meant he'd head north when he got out, walking when he had to; driving when he could until safely north of the border. The he'd find his contact and deliver his intel as had been requested.

He was led into a windowless room with only one chair, into which he was pushed and then strapped tightly to. Erik felt out the metal screws in the chair - however, his luck was waning, because the chair itself was wood. And the dampening field was a lot stronger in this room than it had been in the hallway.

Again, it wasn't all that worrying to him. He'd gotten out of restraints before, without the use of his powers. All in good time.

It came as no surprise to him that they didn't interrogate him immediately. He was intimately familiar with torture, and not just the physical variety. They'd let him stew for a while, possibly withhold food and water.

Erik scoffed silently at this. As if they camps hasn't taught him how to get through such manipulations. And if they decided to take him on physically, well, he was pretty sure that no one could outdo Schmidt in either category.

And Erik would make sure before he left this hellhole that they would feel inferior to _his_ skills as well.

Erik kept a carefully downcast expression, his head bowed, his arms and legs painfully strapped to the chair. It would take the time necessary, but he was going to get the information he'd come for. One way or another.

* * *

Charles was extra careful schooling his expression into a mask of calm he most definitely did not feel. He put his coat on and marched towards the building into which he'd felt the mutant being taken. Giving the guards his most inviting smile, Charles explained calmly that he'd forgotten his ID in lab 4A which was inside the same building. He got a stern talking to by one of them that made him feel like a schoolboy again, but otherwise they let him through. He'd come and gone enough for the guards to recognize him. And he was glad he hadn't had to resort to forcing the issue by way of his gift. Considering how much he was in a hurry, he'd have botched it up for sure.

Taking a deep breath, Charles walked down the hallway, nodding at the guard at the corner, heading towards the main labs. He couldn't head directly to the holding cells, but there was a narrow corridor leading from lab 4A to the holding area. Once he set this course from the lab he knew he had little time - until someone noticed on the surveillance cameras. If he was lucky they might not react, but luck alone wouldn't get him through, _hadn't_ gotten him this far. Meticulously guarding his secrets and being raving paranoid was more like it.

The only reason for the low number of guards was that there wasn't supposed to be any mutants in the holding cells. Save for the newcomer, who had to be a non-planned capture. It meant that they would be bringing in more personnel before interrogating him. Which in turn meant Charles had a window of opportunity. A small one, but a window nevertheless.

He didn't dare push his gift - he knew he could, knew he could influence them even inside the dampening field, but it would take its toll on him and he'd rather be as clear headed as possible and not waste his energy on any situation he could just as well talk and charm his way out of.

Who knew what he might need to do before they were actually safe and sound, far away from the facility?

Well inside the lab, Charles as was relieved to find it deserted. He knew that labs 1 and 2 were used regularly, but lab 4A was rarely used due to its small size. He headed for its back door that would lead to the narrow hallway to the holding cells and took a calming breath before going through.

It wasn't a very used passage, meaning it wasn't all that well lit either. Charles knew that it was only used whenever an inmate was being difficult. It meant they could herd them through to the lab without going through the checkpoints.

In this case it played out to his advantage, even if he knew the exit of it would have security cameras and that once through, he would have to move fast. He could only hope that the new inmate would be able and willing to go with him. If they had hurt him, then Charles might not find the escape all that easy to perform.

The passage felt as if it went on forever, though he knew this to be silly. It wasn't more than two minutes before he was standing at the junction where the passage fed into the main hallway 

Straightening and projecting as much confidence as possible, Charles stepped out, walking steadily towards the holding cells. Thankfully there was already a clipboard with information hanging outside one of the cells and it meant he wouldn't have to waste time trying to find the right door. A quick check and no one was there - standard procedure, Charles knew this. Lock the poor mutant up, leave them there to stew for a while, then go in, work them tirelessly; no sleep, no food, no water.

It gave Charles a window of opportunity that he would have to use to the fullest. So far there was no alarm being sounded so maybe, just maybe, he'd managed to get there without anyone seeing him on the surveillance cameras. Of course, once he entered the cell it would be a completely different clock he'd be running against. The newcomer would be under close scrutiny. Now, if Charles could reach him with his gift, then maybe, just _maybe_ , he could avoid wasting time on explanations once inside.

There was a small window in the door and Charles quickly checked the clipboard next to it before looking inside.

**Name:** Eisenhardt, Max  
 **Gender:** Male  
 **Abilities:** kinesis  
 **Power level:** 2-4  
 **Additional notes:** Holds West German citizenship according to passport.

Charles pursed his lips. Whatever it was he'd felt when the new prisoner had been taken in, he doubted very much that the power level evaluation was on the mark. Or anywhere near it.

The room inside was lit and white, another way of wearing the prisoner down. Bright light and white walls. Enough to give most people a headache, not to mention take away their sense of time passing. Breathing deeply, Charles rubbed his temple, using the light pressure as a focal point. He watched with hope as the hunched figure in the seat jerked a little, his head turning lightly to the side as if he knew Charles was there.

_'My friend, I can help,_ let _me help,'_ Charles pushed forward. Normally he'd transfer his thoughts faster than this, but the longer he had to fight the dampening field, the harder it would get for him, and the more painful it would get too. He knew perfectly well that the strain would leave him with the headache from hell as it were.

Charles wasn't all that worried that he wasn't getting anything back. There was, afterall the damned field to work against. Charles closed his eyes for a moment, pushing his mind forward. There it was... though... He pulled back quickly.

Why the hell was the guy in there not sure if he wanted to escape or not? Charles shook his head. Maybe he just wasn't sure if he could trust Charles.

_'I've helped others. You're the last one I can help.'_ he hoped the garbled message would make sense. _'You're not alone.'_

The figure stayed still for a moment, then turned his head fully to look at the door.

Charles' eyes widened. Not a bad looking guy, tall, slim, bordering on skinny, though his eyes were hooded and he didn't look like mutant prisoners normally did in this place. He wasn't scared, didn't seem the slightest worried about his situation, really.

The only hope he had, was that the man would make the right choice before Charles opened the door and the countdown would start. Once inside, the guards keeping an eye on the camera feed would spot him and he'd have precious few moments to get the man out of the chair he was bound to.

Biting his lower lip, he made a leap of faith and unlocked the door, stepping inside.

* * *

Erik stared unseeingly at the floor, putting up every mental wall he could, shielding off his innermost thoughts, locking his reason for being where he was on the inside.

Unless the dampening field was tailored to allow telepaths to pass through, which he highly doubted, then whoever was outside the cell was damned powerful.

Erik's mind raced to put every ounce of information together. There was no doubt about the offer. Be set free. However, it might be counter productive to Erik's mission, it would lead him away before he could access anything of value.

Then again, the mutant outside wasn't a prisoner. They wouldn't have been allowed to wander the facility unchecked if that had been the case.

Erik's instincts warred among themselves. Threat assessment: The man outside was a telepath, someone who could snatch information from Erik's mind quite easily.

Of course it also meant he could snatch information from any soldier or officer as well. Which in turn opened new options for Erik to consider.

If he could trust the telepath, that was.

There had been emotional transfer in the mental voice as well, and unless he was dealing with someone who could lie convincingly inside his own head, which Erik of course would not put past anyone, the words had been laced with sincerity and worry.

Option one: Erik stayed where he was, refusing to follow that tantalizing 'voice'. He'd gather his intel one way or another, possibly... probably through brute force.

Option two: Follow the man outside and see where it led him.

Logical thing to do: Not deviate from plan.

Gut feeling...

Erik lifted his head and looked the door.

For a moment or two nothing happened, then the door was pulled outward and Erik was looking at his unlikely 'rescuer'. Shorter than Erik himself, cute and harmless at first look, though when Erik met his eyes he knew damned well that looks could be deceiving and that underestimating a man like this would be stupid.

Erik was already applauding his own choice.

"Bugger," the man muttered, fingers sliding over the leather restraints binding Erik to the chair.

Keeping himself from snorting, Erik tapped the heel of his left boot against the floor, though he couldn't move his foot enough to twist the heel of it.

"Turn the heel of my left boot counter clockwise," Erik said, voice low, lifting the heel as much as he could.

"We don't have much time," the man said, barely looking up to meet Erik's eyes before kneeling to twist the heel - the small blade Erik kept there dropping with a *pling* to the floor.

"Some rescuer you are," Erik snorted, this time not concealing his mirth.

"You don't exactly strike me as a damsel in distress, so don't start," was the reply.

Erik felt the corners of his mouth twitch upward. He allowed himself a moment to just look, taking in the slope of a shoulder, the curve of an ear, the sweet swell of...

"Is now _really_ the time for that?" There was no disgust in the tone, just mild exasperation.

"Until you free me, I don't really have anything better to do with my time," Erik replied evenly. He hadn't missed the accent. Proper British. He had to wonder if...

"We have to get out of here," the man said, ignoring Erik's quip. "There's a camera in here and the guards will be here any second."

The leather around his right wrist gave and once freed, he tore the straps off. A small hissing sound made him look up. Gas. Damn it. Erik stood in one swift move, grabbed his rescuer and tore out the door, dragging him along.

"How do we get out of here?" Erik asked. "The fastest way?"

His would-be rescuer looked from the left to the right, but before he could say anything, they could hear the sound of boots, people running and in their direction. He quirked an eyebrow at Erik and pointed in the opposite direction.

"Not a viable plan for the long run," Erik snorted but followed along. "How well do you know the place?"

Instead of answering, the man led him on and Erik nearly stumbled when a map appeared in his mind, and all of the sudden he knew what lay behind the next bend and the door at the end of the corridor.

Seemed Erik was destined to be surprised by his rescuer's abilities. Not to mention what he might know, including the layout of the damned place. So far his choice to follow his liberator seemed to be the right one. 

"Am I right in thinking there's a fire exit further on?" Erik asked, stopping at a corridor leading off to the right.

"It's rigged, won't budge unless the fire alarm goes off," the man answered.

"That can be arranged," Erik said with a grin, feeling the dampening field growing thinner as he grabbed the guy and all but dragged him down the corridor.

Two-three steps and he was running alongside Erik, the shouts growing louder behind them. "We won't be able to outrun them this easily."

"How far does the dampening field reach?" Erik asked instead of commenting on the obvious.

"Not sure, but it is remarkably weaker once you're outside the building itself."

The corridor ended at the solid metal door and Erik put his hand on it. He looked at the other man and raised an eyebrow. If the man knew the layout of the building...

"There's a flat, gravel covered yard outside. There's about a hundred yards from the door to the chain link fence. It's barbed wired at the top, around 15 feet high." No nonsense, instant sharing of the needed information. Erik was sufficiently impressed and no less enticed than before.

"All metal," Erik said, almost happily. If the field was indeed less outside, he could tear the fence apart. "Any traps, ditches, mines?"

The man shot him a look of surprise. "Not that I know of. There are no warnings to such, but of course that doesn't mean they aren't there."

"Hmm," Erik pursed his lips. He would have to check for himself. Another shout behind them alerted Erik to their pursuers. Putting a hand on the door and feeling out the wires leading into the lock, he set off the alarm. No finesse, but it did what he wanted it to, letting him push the door open, pulling the man behind him and outside.

* * *

Their escape was... surreal to Charles. Less than half an hour earlier he'd been well on the way to removing anything that might lead the government to him and his associates, had been about to leave the base one final time. In the short span of time, he'd gone from a calm and well-planned escape to running for his life with a man he'd only just met, someone he didn't have the time to read in order to fully trust him.

Not that it really mattered as they both made a bid for freedom. The run across the flat ground to the chainlink fence made it itch between Charles shoulders, made him feel like he was carrying a huge bullseye on his back.

And he _could_ hear guns being fired, but the bullets all seemed to hit around them, veering off and kicking up dirt to the left and right of them, never coming close enough to do any damage to them.

As the chain link fence shook in front of them and rolled back like twin tops of a can of sardines being opened, Charles realized exactly why the bullets weren't hitting their targets.

He wanted to say so, wanted to exclaim how impressive, how interesting, how bloody groovy, and he would have, had he had the breath to do so. Kinesis indeed and if what he was seeing was right, then it seemed focused on metal. Even in the face of danger, Charles was thrilled to see such an easy display of raw power.

Behind them the fence mended itself - sort of. It folded back to bar the soldiers from following them directly and the barbed wire warped and lashed out at the first soldier who reached the fence, curling around him like a ferocious snake.

Charles swallowed hard and focused on not reading the soldier's pain as the wire wrapped itself tightly around his neck. Instead he put his all in on running, on keeping up with the long legged man he'd … well, Charles wasn't entirely sure if he'd helped the man escaped or if it was the other way around.

Either way, it was something to consider once they were far away from their pursuers.

They were heading unerringly towards the north, even though Charles hadn't managed to share where they should be heading. Normally the mutants he helped liberate were taken to the Canadian border or as close as possible. Charles was never quite sure how and through which contacts. It had always been safer that way. Knowledge that couldn't be taken from him to endanger his associates. That moment, however, he feverishly wished they were meeting someone who would help them on. Without thicker outdoor clothing than they were currently wearing, they would find a hard time surviving in the woods at night.

Not to mention a trip northward through the wood would make it even harder.

The shots kept coming and Charles could hear the sound of machines behind them. However they were now sufficiently far from the facility and the dampening field that fighting back wouldn't take a toll on him.

At all.

* * *

Erik headed for the thickness of the woods, knowing that he could outsmart the soldiers and that it would make it easier for him to take out their vehicles, could maybe even appropriate one...

Five paces forward and he stopped. He'd lost his short companion, he realized. Turning he opened his mouth to ask what the hell the man was doing but he quickly shut his mouth, simply taking in the scene.

The soldiers pursuing them had stopped firing at them, had stopped their jeeps and trucks.

Erik chanced taking his eyes off them and looked at the man.

He in turn was staring intently at the soldiers, absentmindedly rubbing his temple.

Possible reactions tore through Erik. He was with a telepath that much he'd figured out. A powerful one too, that made sense as well, or he wouldn't have been capable of touching Erik's mind within the dampening field.

Nothing, however, put things into perspective like watching ten soldiers about turn and head back, as if he and his new friend weren't there at all.

Erik licked his lips, the feelings of caution and paranoia pushed aside for a few moments. Here was a guy whose powers were incredible and so very handy for a lot of situations. Shaking himself out of his reverie and his lost thoughts about how the packaging wasn't too bad either, Erik cleared his throat. "You might want them to leave a jeep for us to drive. It'd get us forward faster."

The man turned his head a little, frowning before turning his attention back to the soldiers who were frozen in place. Then they moved again, two of them getting out of one of the jeeps to get into one of the trucks.

"Won't they be able to track us if we use their jeep?" The last of the vehicles disappeared in the distance and Erik was already getting in behind the wheel of the jeep the soldiers had so very 'helpfully' left for them.

Erik looked up, feeling impatience warring with curiosity. "If we're fast enough and we ditch it before we cross the border - leave it as a decoy somewhere - I think we'll manage." He allowed himself a menacing grin. "Besides, between you and I, I'm sure we can keep one step ahead of them."

The man watched him for a moment, blue eyes narrowed and lips pursed in thought. "So, north."

"It's where you'd head anyway, isn't it?" Erik waged. He could be wrong, but... What if they were essentially working for the same people? Or maybe factions of the same government? Trust London bureaucrats to fuck up and send to agents on what was essentially the same mission. _He_ may be on loan to the Canadian government, but who was to say that his unlikely rescuer wasn't involved as well?.

A short nod. "I'm Charles," the man finally said, as he moved forward, taking the seat next to Erik.

Erik opened his mouth to answer, then shut it again. He had to wonder... "How much of my mind did you read?" he asked as he started the car with a small wave of the hand.

Charles' eyes widened, but he didn't ask, didn't comment. "I only skimmed the surface of your mind and while I don't know what your name is, I know it's not 'Max' as it said on the door."

A laugh was startled out of Erik, who shook his head, marveling at the diversity of their kind's powers.

"I really didn't," Charles expanded, as he hung onto his seat as Erik threw the Jeep up a narrow dirt track, barely wide enough for it to pass through. "I could have, but I respect privacy."

"But how could you be sure you could trust me?" Erik asked curiously. Charles seemed almost too much of an idealist to be working for any government, though of course one shouldn't judge a book by its cover.

Charles was quiet for a moment and the only sound was the rumbling of the engine and the rattling of the jeep as they drove forward at a pretty insane speed. However, Erik was, as always, in perfect control of the vehicle. Plenty of metal for him to throw forward and steer.

"Intuition."

Erik nearly hit a tree when he looked at Charles, for a moment not paying attention to the path they were traveling. "I can't figure out if I want to be impressed or smack you upside the head," Erik admitted incredulously. "How can you just trust me? You don't know me."

Charles looked stubbornly forward. "If I can't trust my own kind, then who?"

Shaking his head, Erik focused on the driving for a few moments. "Not all mutants are good guys," he said, feeling annoyed. This guy was unbelievable.

"And not all humans are bad either," Charles said stubbornly. "I don't have to read your mind to know that you don't trust humans."

Erik snorted. "I haven't had the best track record, and I don't even trust the people I work for. But trust _me_ when I say that some mutants are worse than the humans." He knew, he had experience. Considering what Schmidt had done...

"I'm not stupid," Charles said quietly, barely audible over the rattling of the jeep. "We're all capable of impressive feats of good as well as the most reprehensible wrongs."

The drive was quiet for a little while. Erik wanted to ask how Charles could see the good in anyone. If he was as powerful a telepath as Erik thought he might be, he must have seen the darkness of people's souls.

Not wanting to get too entrenched in the possibilities of Charles seeing the darkness of _his_ soul, Erik swallowed his questions. He still had to ask eventually, but for now it seemed Charles was lost in thought and Erik had to focus more on the drive itself as the forest path had narrowed even more.

Now, the the fact that he'd found the guy in a US government run facility incarcerating mutants, and not as a prisoner, Erik would have initially put his money on him being the bad sort of mutant. The kind who didn't give a shit about their own kind, about what happened to them behind government closed doors.

Then there was that little piece of information that his current employer had given him. That it seemed some of the facilities, among others the one Erik had just left, had 'lost' one or two of its test subjects during transfers.

Erik wasn't a man to jump to conclusions. It was more than possible that Charles could make him trust him by merely manipulating his thoughts, but Erik had that gut feeling... and he'd learned to trust his instincts over the years, honing them in his hunt for Schmidt and men like him who'd destroyed Erik's world. The British accent had thrown him at first, made him wonder if Charles and he might be working for the same people, but no. Someone would have mentioned that they had someone on the inside getting people out instead of merely including the information that apparently someone was helping mutants escape and then disappear.

Of course, 'disappear' could mean a lot of things, not necessarily good ones. But if it had caused the American military to lose a few mutants, then Erik had to wonder if whomever was getting these people out weren't also giving them a helping hand disappearing, going under US government radar.

Focusing on the road and keeping his thoughts deeply buried, Erik gripped the steering wheel hard, although he was mostly navigating the car with the help of his powers, he prefered having a point of focus.

"Erik," he finally said, breaking the silence between them for a moment. "My name's Erik."

* * *

The adrenaline abated somewhat, even if the occasional jolt of the jeep made it flare up again, as Charles hung on for life. Erik threw the jeep here and there to avoid trees and bushes, not making it a comfortable ride at all.

The path widened a little and the ride, while not smooth, became easier to handle. At least enough for Charles to focus on a few things other than not slamming against the dashboard or falling out the side of the jeep.

His... rescue of one final mutant from the facility had very obviously gone completely wrong, although in the end, they were now on the run and running in the right direction. However, Charles worried what his associates would think when he failed to check in with them.

The plan had been for him to go into the nearest town and then disappear, using multiple driver's licenses, passports and using the intricate system of false personalities they had so painstakingly made for him. He'd have the aid of his powers as well, of course, though the less tinkering he had to do the better. The human mind wasn't a simple mechanism.

Emma would have his head, Hank would be wringing his hands, worrying. Raven might possibly kill him and then mutilate his corpse.

If he ever made it north of the border, that was. With the way that Erik was driving, it wasn't a given thing. And he had to wonder if he really could trust the man. It had seemed almost odd than on the final day of his mission, he'd run into a mutant who actually had had to think twice before letting Charles help him get out.

Charles tried to focus enough to read the man, but it seemed not only was he very good with shielding, he was also sensitive to Charles attempt to prod his mind. Not that Charles couldn't force it, but he hadn't been lying when he'd said he respected privacy, at least of deeper thoughts. Surface ones he normally considered fair game.

"I'd stay out of there if I were you," Erik growled.

Charles sighed deeply and grabbed onto whatever, bracing one foot against the dashboard to press himself back against the seat as they hit a tree root and the jeep might possibly have lost connection with the ground with all four wheels for a few seconds.

The impact as they landed again, was harsh, nearly causing Charles to fall out again. He'd tried to grab for the safety belt several times, but each time he'd had to abort in order to grab onto anything to stay seated.

"You have your secrets, I have mine?" he half joked. He wanted to let the man know that they could get to safety on the other side of the border, that there were people willing to help them. However, he didn't know exactly where they were going - where they'd cross the border.

If they would even get there in one piece.

As intriguing as Erik had seemed at first, as infuriating he was becoming, in his silence, in his hijacking of Charles' rescue operation as well as his own getaway. Charles stewed in his annoyance for a while. Could he trust the man or was he on the side of the government? There were mutants who had been 'convinced' to work for them. Some through threats, others through greed. What if Erik was one of those? What if he was simply going along with Charles to unravel the secrets of what Charles had been part of for years now?

What if, by going with Erik and telling him anything, Charles was essentially handing over information about their underground network, the rescuing and transporting of government captured mutants over the border to Canada?

The thought sent a chill down Charles' spine. If their mad dash through the forest ever ended, he'd have to incapacitate Erik, would have to do what he hated the most; lift information that wouldn't be freely given from someone's mind. The thought made Charles' stomach turn, although that might just be the driving itself. But he'd always hated that, always hated dragging information of of people's minds against their wills. It wasn't something he did happily, it was something that was the last resort. It was always less invasive to simply skim the surface of someone's mind to see if they were lying or not, instead of rifling through their mind, thoughts and memories against their will. Like going through their underwear drawer full of dirty laundry.

"Hang on," Erik suddenly said, slamming on the break.

Charles squeaked in surprise as the seat belt looped over his chest and held him in place, right on time before he would have slammed forward into the dashboard.

The jeep squealed to a halt, the engine out and the forest around them quiet as the grave.

Charles stared dead ahead when he finally lifted his head, his chest hurting from the seat belt. He opened his mouth to ask what the hell had possessed Erik, when he realized their path had come to an end.

Literally.

The sheer drop in front of them, less than a few inches ahead of the front wheels was awe inspiring and quite frankly horrifying.

Charles took a deep breath, his heart hammering in his chest. "Are you slightly insane?" he asked Erik. When he did turn his head to look at him, he found the man grinning manically, eyes alight. "Never mind," he muttered, "I think the answer to that is pretty bloody obvious."

Erik turned his head and laughed at him. "Too much for your heart, Charles?"

"Too much for anyone's heart," Charles bristled.

"I happen to find it quite invigorating," Erik admitted.

"Definitely insane," Charles muttered to himself.

"Nothing wrong with a bit of adrenaline," Erik said, before slipping out from his side of the jeep, having a look around. "Doesn't seem to be a way down, but that won't stop us."

"It won't?" Charles asked curiously. He was still annoyed with Erik for the wild ride through the forest, but Charles had been born curious; at least according to his late father, he'd always been far too curious for his own good.

Some days Charles was inclined to agree.

"I think..." Erik said, leaning over the edge of the gorge ahead of them. "I think we should drop the jeep in here and let them think we've had an accident if they ever actually find it."

"And pray tell," Charles said dryly, fighting the urge to drag Erik back from the edge. "What do we do with _us_ if the jeep goes down there?"

Erik looked up and across the gorge, pointing at the other side. "We're going over there and continuing on foot," he said, tone letting Charles know that he thought that was pretty damned obvious. He turned back to the jeep, checking the back of the seats, finding a rope and a bag with a first aid kit, as well as a couple of blankets under the seat. Erik appeared to be used to thinking ahead, surviving as it only took him a moment to create a makeshift bag out of one blanket, storing the rest inside it.

Charles rolled his eyes. "And how do you propose we get over there?"

Erik grinned at him, teeth showing menacingly. "You'll just have to trust me."

Taking a deep breath, Charles opened his mouth to argue, when suddenly, the jeep lurched forward, over the edge of the gorge. It tumbled down, creaking and moaning, the sound of splintering wood breaking the silence of the woods.

"And when I say trust," Erik said, stepping far too close for Charles' liking, "I mean trust." He put his hands on Charles' hips and winked. "I suggest you hold onto me."

How they got from point A to point B, Charles would never quite understand, but a moment later, Charles yelped, as they moved up and forward. Without thinking, he almost climbed Erik, throwing his arms around his neck, legs around his thighs.

"Very stylish," Erik mocked, lifting them out over the edge and slowly, so very slowly, towards the other side.

Charles tried to say something, _anything_ , but his voice failed him, his heart back to beating against his ribcage. He'd never liked heights and this wasn't exactly helping. He dropped his dignity and hid his face against Erik's shoulder.

"I know what I'm doing, you know," Erik said, sounding like he was torn between amusement and indignation.

"I'm sure you do," Charles said, words muffled by Erik's shirt. "But I'd just as soon like to have solid ground under my feet, if you don't mind."

There was a momentary shake in the body he was holding onto and Charles realized Erik was laughing silently at him.

"Don't even start," he warned him.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Erik replied, good naturedly.

To Charles the trip felt like it took forever. There was thankfully very little wind and under different circumstances, he might not have minded wrapping himself around a tall, handsome stranger, but it didn't change the situation, really. They were still on the run.

Charles scrunched up his nose and took a deep breath. It wasn't unpleasant, the scent he had it buried in just that moment. The shirt was nice and soft, the muscles underneath it inviting in their firmness and...

"You can put your feet down now," Erik said evenly.

Charles pulled his head back and looked down, found ground and hurriedly put his feet down, stepping back from Erik. Who had unfortunately not put them down that far from the edge, and Charles felt a sudden tug on his belt and necklace that made him stumble forward again. Right back into Erik's space.

"How did you survive so long without me?" Erik asked brusquely, though there was a glint of amusement in his eyes.

"Well, yes," Charles said, this time sidestepping Erik instead of back towards the edge of the gorge. "I did very well until you came along."

"Mmm," was all Erik said in reply.

Charles met his eyes, didn't back down. "We still heading north?" he asked, pointing ahead of them, into the thickness of the woods.

Erik nodded. "Not sure how far we are from the border, though."

Charles closed his eyes and reached out with his mind. "We're far from civilization, but that doesn't really say anything about distance to the border," he finally said, when his cast out 'net' touched minds in the distance. He wanted to aim at Emma, to let her know that he was okay, but he'd need a little rest first. As he wasn't sure which direction he'd find her in, apart from somewhere north - and either east, west or directly north, he wanted to be rested enough to be coherent.

And to let her know about Erik. Though to do so, he should find out more about his mystery companion.

"Can you actually feel people that far of? Erik asked curiously.

Charles bit his lower lip, wondering how much he should share. He'd already let him see more of his powers than he normally let anyone, save for the innermost circle of their group. "Not enough to read their minds, but enough to tell the difference between animals and people, as well as discerning that it's a number large enough to be a small township. Pretty far still, but in that direction." He pointed a little more to their left.

Erik raised an eyebrow, obviously a little impressed. "Shall we?" he asked, gesturing ahead at what seemed to be a narrow animal track.

Charles nodded and let Erik lead the way. He seemed to unerringly know which direction was north and come to think of it... "May I ask you a question?"

Erik didn't slow, but turned his head a little in acknowledgement.

"Can you feel which way north is?" Charles asked curiously.

Erik huffed, then shrugged. "I can tell which way true north is," he admitted. "adjusting for that, yes we're heading towards the border to Canada."

"Magnetic field, right?" Charles asked, hurrying up to follow Erik who had picked up speed as the path widened a little.

"Yes."

Charles sighed, feeling a little annoyed. Not the best conversationalist he'd ever met.

* * *

"Why were you there?"

Erik frowned. "Where?" he asked, adjusting their route. If Charles was indeed right and there were people near, they should probably head in that direction. Erik needed to find a way to get the information he had to his employee. And he needed to either get more information out of Charles or if need be, hand him over to the Canadian government for interrogation.

"In the facility."

"They took me unawares in a small town nearby," Erik replied, keeping his voice calm, though he kept alert. He didn't want to answer too many of Charles' questions, but maybe if he answered some, he might get something from Charles as well.

Charles didn't reply and when Erik looked back, he noticed the puzzled look on his face. "What?"

Meeting his eyes, Charles shook his head. "You were estimated to be around a level 2-4 in strength, but I'm fairly sure you're at least 6, if not 8. They didn't just get lucky and take you in without a fight, did they?"

Erik hid a smile as he looked ahead again. "I put up a fight, they were better."

Charles snorted. "Yeah right," he muttered under his breath, though loud enough that Erik caught it.

"I mean it," Erik replied. "I got careless and someone told the soldiers where I was, what I could do."

"You got careless?" Charles said, voice obviously relaying how much he didn't believe that.

"You could just drag it out of my mind, you know, instead of trying to get information out of me," Erik replied, bracing himself for just that, partly wondering if Charles didn't trust him, why hadn't he already done so?

"I've already told you once that I don't do that," Charles said, this time sounding very annoyed.

"Why don't you tell me what you were doing there," Erik said, finally deciding that maybe finesse really wasn't called for.

"Who do you work for?" Charles asked instead of answering Erik's question.

Erik didn't even bother holding back on the laugh. "I could ask you the same."

Charles didn't answer him and they walked on, the darkness soon making it difficult to see far in front of them.

"We need to stop somewhere for the night," Erik finally said. "It's getting too dark to see where we're going."

"We don't have provisions or survival gear, nor outerwear to keep us warm," Charles said from behind him. "We can probably make it through the night without too much trouble if we can find somewhere to keep warm enough."

Erik knew he would be alright. He'd been through worse, but he had to wonder if Charles would fare alright with a night under the skies and...

Stopping dead, Erik felt around them, getting a feel for any natural metals, comparing them to what had... peaked his interest. Of course his sudden stop meant Charles walked into him, and he'd have ended up on his ass if Erik hadn't caught his wrist and kept him on his feet.

Erik tilted his head to the side, holding up Charles' hand. He wasn't even entirely sure why he was doing it, but he had trouble figuring out what made Charles tick, and he had trouble fully trusting that he'd stay out of his head. So all in all Erik was his usually prickly self around someone he couldn't quite figure out.

Of course there was the other reason as well. That he wasn't blind, nor dead. He found it intriguing that Charles hadn't completely shot him down when he'd been caught ogling his ass while Charles had been freeing him. He'd simply been told off for his timing.

It would be stupid to start anything, or try to anyway. It would only complicate an already complicated situation. Erik grinned. Of course, such things wouldn't necessarily keep him from doing just that. He pulled at Charles' wrist and put his free hand on Charles' hip, keeping him in place, close against himself.

A feeling of dizziness came over him and Erik swayed on his feet. It felt as if he was trying to think through cotton.

_'Don't think I'm incapable of defending myself,'_ Charles told him, voice cold as ice in his head, creeping in everywhere, every corner and crevice.

Without wanting to, Erik let go of him, sinking to his knees and breathing hard. He couldn't seem to pull enough air into his lungs and his head hurt like hell. He managed to turn his head up, looking Charles in the eye.

Instead of fighting, instead of giving into that little core of his mind that screamed with fear of being controlled, he relaxed. He didn't break eye contact with Charles, and if he'd felt attraction earlier, it was nothing compared to facing off against someone who could match him, possibly even beat him.

"You... impossible _idiot_ ," Charles exclaimed, eyes widening.

It should probably have bothered Erik more than it did that he was obviously picking stuff up from Erik's mind.

The pressure keeping Erik on his knees disappeared and Erik slowly stood, not for a second taking his eyes off Charles. Looming over him, he raised an eyebrow. "I never claimed to be your garden variety mutant," Erik said evenly. He licked his dry lips and smirked when he noticed Charles' eyes flicker down to catch the movement. "I've long since learned to go for what I want. Life has taught me enough lessons on that part." He let a few memories slip his shielding and he could tell by the look of horror on Charles' face that he caught them loud and clear.

"It's not going to be a problem, is it?" Erik asked, keeping his voice neutral. When Charles didn't answer, he snorted. "My obvious lack of care about gender, Charles."

Charles looked a little flustered, but nevertheless met Erik's gaze unwaveringly. "I think we should focus on finding shelter and actually survive our escape before you get frisky."

"Shelter first," Erik agreed, leaning in further, allowing himself to enjoy making Charles squirm for a moment. "I've found shelter, I think."

"Wha'?" Charles was going almost cross eyed looking at Erik's mouth.

"I can feel nails in an order that suggests a building of some sort, a little off to the left and about..." Erik paused. "Probably about twenty minutes of walking."

Charles drew a deep breath. Then narrowed his eyes. "Alright, let's find shelter." He paused for a moment, all seriousness again. "I think we need to talk."

Erik didn't bother acting as if he didn't know what Charles was talking about. "Yes," he agreed. He'd prefer to get information from Charles without torture.

"So would I," Charles said, looking unimpressed.

With a snort, Erik set off in the direction from which he'd felt the metal. There was no path to follow and after the first twenty minutes they were both stumbling, tired and sweaty, the cool twilight air making them shiver. It took another ten minutes before Erik stumbled out onto a path, that at least made it easier for them to walk.

It was getting darker and darker with night settling and Erik held out a hand to stop Charles from getting too close before they could know for certain if there was anyone in the log cabin up ahead.

Charles sighed and rubbed his temple. "Erik, it's empty. Or at least, there's no one in there with a sentient mind."

Erik turned his head to look at him, not able to see much. "You sure?"

"Unless it's someone who can shield themselves completely from me, yes," Charles said, sounding tired.

Erik was really beginning to see the advantage in having a telepath along. "Alright, but we're still being careful."

"Of course," Charles agreed, sounding a little annoyed.

The cabin, once they'd wrenched the door open, was old and abandoned. Or at least there's been no one in quite some time.

"Probably someone's hunting cabin," Charles muttered, as they managed to find an old oil lamp, still with some oil in it.

Erik slid his hand cautiously around the tabletop where the lamp was and his fingers hit stone. Flint. How old fashioned.

The lamp lit, Erik shut the door and took a good look around.

Charles had already sunk onto a rickety old chair that was at the table. The only one. So obviously the cabin had been used by a single individual at a time. And it did seem to be a hunting cabin. Traps were hanging on the wall, rope and a few knives. Erik touched one with his power and found the egg fairly sharp still.

"I think we can stay the night here,"Charles said quietly, from where he was sitting, eyes following Erik around the cabin.

There were no windows in the cabin and Erik relaxed a little. The light wouldn't be easy to see even in a dark forest as long as the door was kept shut.

"Any food here?" he asked, check the shelves himself. "No." He answered his own question.

"There's possibly a river nearby, or a stream, it would make sense to build a cabin near a source of water," Charles said. "Hopefully we can get to a town before we die of hunger."

"You said you could feel them," Erik said, watching Charles. "A town."

Charles nodded, looking like he was halfway asleep already. "Yeah, not sure about the distance, but I don't think it's more than a...." he trailed off, eyes glassy, but suddenly sitting up straight.

Erik was instantly alert, grabbing onto any metal he could feel in the cabin, especially the knives on the wall.

* * *

Charles sagged in his seat. He'd never been so happy to feel and hear Emma in his head.

 _'I'm good, don't worry,'_ he told her. _'Are you close?'_ he asked curiously. Emma's range wasn't as great as his own, and he hadn't been the one to reach out.

_'Not all that close, sorry, Charles,'_ she let him know, her mental voice almost... tired. _'Hank finished Cerebro and tweaked it to fit my mind - we were worried.'_

Charles smiled softly, for a moment completely forgetting he wasn't alone. Then he realized that there was a lot of tension in the air. He looked up and found knives hovering in the air, in the middle of the cabin, Erik standing among them, looking serious and ready to take on the world.

"Oh, Erik! Don't worry..." he held up a hand, allowing himself a small, relieved laugh. "I'll explain in a moment, okay? But we might be getting help sooner than I'd dared hope for."

_'Who's Erik?'_ Emma asked curiously, and more than a little worried.

_'A new friend I've made, apparently,'_ Charles replied. He drew a deep breath. Erik still hadn't let the knives drop. _'We're not exactly lost, but...'_

Emma's presence permeated his mind and then lifted again. _'I think you're close to the Canadian border, '_ she told him. _'Maybe another day or two northbound, if you're on foot, and you'll be crossing it. We can pick you up wherever you enter Canada, but you know we can't cross the border to get you.'_

Charles sighed deeply. _'I know,'_ he replied. _'Don't overdo the usage of Cerebro, Emma. We don't know what it might do to you.'_

She was quiet for a moment. _'Are you sure you're okay with your... friend?'_

_'Yeah, I can handle myself with this,'_ Charles replied dryly. _'We've found shelter, we're okay for the night.'_

_'If you're sure,'_ Emma replied. _'Be careful. I'll use Cerebro again tomorrow night just before sundown. Check in with you.'_

_'Sounds like a brilliant idea,'_ Charles agreed, feeling a weight lifting from his shoulders. He became increasingly aware of Erik growing agitated. _'Emma, I promise you. I'm good, I'm fine, and I'll be listening for you tomorrow night.'_

_'We'll get you out,'_ she promised him.

Charles didn't answer, just sent her a wave of hope/relief/safety. It did seem to do the job as her presence grew fainter before it disappeared completely.

"We're getting help when we cross the border," Charles said, opening his eyes and meeting Erik's dark glare. "And yes, we can trust them."

Erik didn't relax at first, just stared at him. Then he waved the knives back onto their spots on the wall and slid down to sit on the floor. He looked... more tired than Charles would have guessed. He didn't take his eyes off Charles, though.

Charles pushed down the temptation of reading Erik's mind again. He'd already gleaned a few things off the top of Erik's mind, but for anything substantial he'd have to dig. And he'd really rather not, unless he had to, in order to protect his friends.

This still remained to be seen.

"You're right, it's time to talk," Charles said, rising from the chair and walking the few steps to Erik's side, sitting down next to him. Charles was pretty sure even if he hadn't been a telepath, he'd have been able to feel the tension lessening in Erik's body when he did so.

"Why don't I start?" Charles said dryly. He was well aware that he'd have to share some before he could get Erik to do the same. Probably. "Though one question first, if I may?"

Erik stared at him for a moment, then nodded.

"With whom lies your loyalty?" Charles asked, steeling himself. "And I know you don't want to answer right now, but at least tell me this, does it lie with a government or does it lie with us? The mutants?"

Erik pursed his lips and Charles tried not to stare too much. He didn't manage all that well, because Erik's mouth quirked up into a knowing grin.

"You know I could ask the same of you," Erik said instead of answering the question.

"I can tell you're going to be a very frustrating acquaintance," Charles said with a huff.

Erik shifted to half lie, half sit next to him, putting a hand on Charles' hip. "Acquaintance, Charles? Is that all you'll let it be?"

Charles rolled his eyes but couldn't quite help the laugh. "I'll take the chance then," he said, deciding that one of them would have to. "I would like nothing more than to live a normal life, with people who couldn't care less what my genetics make me, but in the end, It's more important to me to protect the innocent, the ones who can't protect themselves, and in this case, those are mutants like myself. And you."

Erik stared at him for a long time, his hand curved distractingly over Charles' hip.

"And I know you're trying to distract me, Erik. Just because I'm attracted to you doesn't mean I'm going to give you all my secrets," Charles said annoyed.

Letting his head fall back, baring his throat, Erik laughed, the kind of laugh that sounded so genuine and made Charles flush.

"Charles, I would be more than willing to seduce your secrets from you, but I think we're ultimately working towards the same goal," Erik said, leaning closer to him. "Though I hope you don't mind me... still seducing you, even if it's for the sheer pleasure of it."

Much against his self control, this made Charles laugh. No matter how he tried to look at it, Erik was ultimately terribly charming and terribly scary, but if they were indeed working towards the same goal... "Mutant equality with non-mutants and safety for mutants," he finally said, resting his hand lightly on top of Erik's, allowing himself to rub his thumb against the side of it.

Erik's grin widened. "Mutant liberation, world domination" he replied, leaning even closer, breath ghosting over Charles' lips. "And that wasn't a no on the seduction."

Charles closed his eyes and tried not to laugh, partly in surprise and partly in flustered horror. "Erik, we need to work on your world views and priorities." Worst part was he wasn't even sure if Erik was joking.

"You're quite right," Erik said, mock serious. "Seduction first, liberation next, then world domination."

Charles closed his eyes and bit his lower lip as Erik nuzzled along his jaw towards his neck. If this was the only way he was going to get any kind of information out of Erik Lehnsherr, then so be it. There was still time to judge his loyalties before they reached the Canadian border. He almost laughed out loud when he realized that when Emma learned of this, and she would, he wasn't stupid, she'd say he was doing his duty for their cause.

While laughing her arse off at his expense.

Oh well, he thought, as Erik slipped a hand up under Charles' shirt which had mysteriously come undone from his trouser, at least he had to admit it wasn't the worst thing he could do in the name of the cause.

The end

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not saying there'll be more in this universe, though we'll see if I need a writing project at some point, I might dig this world back out and work with it again. No, they aren't having sex in the cabin. Don't get your hopes up. Charles doesn't put out on the first date, and Erik wouldn't want him to be that easy.
> 
> It's the thrill of the chase that makes the victory in the end so much sweeter.


End file.
